So, I got this idea while reading Glamour mag, and I read this section. It had 25 things, sent in by men, and it was their favorite things their girlfriends/fiancee/wives did. I was reading some of them, and dang, I got an idea. I hope none of you out there are the guys that got quoted haha. The italics are the exact quote from Glamour. Wanna get the issue? It's May's, and Miley Cyrus(EW) is on the cover.

Some of these will be in Tony's POV, others in Ziva's. You'll be able to figure it out while reading. :)

Disclaimer: I swear, I don't own any of these people or things that their woman do. :) I'm just borrowing them for my Tiva needs. :)

I love how her underwear and bra always have to match. Like, always. Even when all we're going is going to the corner store.
-Jarrod Holland, 34, Wilmington, N.C

"DiNozzo, I want my bra back now."

I slung the bra around my finger over my head, smirking down at her as she glared up at me. She reached up, trying to pry it out of my hands, but failing. She playfully slapped my stomach, jumping up to grab the bra.

"Use another one." I said, and she stopped her frantic jumping to grab the bra. I watched as she started at me, then turned on her heel and walked back into our room. I heard the drawers open, and I walked into see her changing her underwear.

"What are you doing? All we are doing is going out for a walk! Do they have to match?"

She threw her book at me, and I moved to avoid the flying projectile. She pulled back on her jeans, and I reached into her underwear drawer and grabbed the matching bra. She turned to stare at me.

"Tony." She warned, and I laughed. Suddenly, I was tackled to the floor, my little ninja catching me off guard again. I smiled up at her, holding both bras tightly in my hands. She sat on my waist, pulling at the bras. I heard the stitching tear, as did she. She glared down at me, trying desperately to pry my hands off her bras. I smirked at her as she bit my hand, and I let go of her bras a little.

"Please, let go." She said, and I shook my head.

"For once, can the drapery not match the carpet?" I asked, and she tilted her head.

"What?"

"It's a saying. Does your bra have to match your underwear?" I asked again, and this time she got it.

"Yes, it does. Now. Give. Me. It. Back." She said, growling under her breath. I rolled my tongue, and she found a pressure point on my neck. I groaned, having learned that yelling out in pain only made her smile even more. She stuck her tongue out at me, finally pulling the bras out of my hands. She stood back up, putting the one bra away. She pulled off her shirt, slipping on the matching bra to her underwear. I sighed, standing up.

"Why?" I asked, and she turned to look at me.

"Why what?" She asked, turning to walk over to the closet to grab long shirt. She slipped it over her head, fixing it to sit straight on her body. I rolled my eyes, pulling her hand out the door.

"You look beautiful, now let's go." I said, as she started too protested. She smiled at me, allowing me to pull her out the door.

"Yes, and it all matches." She said. I looked down at her.

"Does it have too?" I asked.

"You like it mismatched?" She asked, her small hand encompassed in mine as we walked down the street to the store. I smirked, gently knocking my hip into hers. She pushed me back.

"I just like… it." I said, and she laughed.

"So you don't care if they are mismatched or not?"

"No. As long as you don't wear granny panties?"

"Granny panties?" She asked. I opened the door for her, and she smiled at me as we walked in.

"Yeah, the ones that go up to your boobs." I said, and she looked at me. I saw the disgust.

"Ew. No worries, I shall not wear those. Ever. However, I will keep my matching carpets and drapes." She said, and I smirked.

"It's all going to end up on the floor anyway."

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